the fun she planned to have with him before he died.
The narrow flight of stairs angled steeply down into the cellars. Aurek paused for a heartbeat to check his footing and found the top three treads no longer existed. Heart pounding, he leaped over the hole, felt the fourth splinter under his weight, slammed his shoulder into the damp stone wall, and somehow managed to keep his feet. The rats had gone through the walls and cut him off. He had no choice but to go down.
He hadn’t seen Louise Renier again, but he could feel the heat of her hate on his back.
Lantern flickering ominously, the oil nearly spent, he dashed along the heavy beams that were, in places, all that remained of thefloor. From the smell rising up through gaping holes outlined in bloated half-circles of fungus, the sewers were directly below.
The wall he soon arrived at was, unfortunately, much more solid than the floor.
Too late, he realized the stairs were the only way in or out, and the stairs had become a seething mass of rats. Cornered, Aurek turned to face them in time to see Louise Renier descend. Flanked by the giant rats she commanded, the wererat started across the room toward him.
If he fought and was destroyed, all was lost.
If he fought and won—and to win he must kill the lord of Richemulot’s twin—all was also lost.
Rats were still coming down the stairs, and now they’d begun to climb up from the sewers as well.
Aurek found himself wondering how Louise controlled her lesser cousins, if some sort of telepathy occurred between the wererats and the rest. He had to force his attention back to his own safety. Answers would have to wait. For now, the only question had to be survival.
There was nowhere else to run. The ceilings in these buildings were high, even deep in the cellars—too high for him to reach the room above. He pressed his shoulder hard against the damp and unyielding stone that held him trapped. If only he knew what was on the other side.… But he didn’t.
He would have to fight.
All other choices had been taken from him.
He turned to face the wererat, fascinated in spite of himself by the similarities between this animal and the woman who had tried to seduce him less than twenty-four hours before.
Rats continued to pour into the room.
The floor shuddered under their combined weight.
Squealing in fury, a rat dropped onto his shoulder from above. Without thinking, he plucked it off and flung it in the wererat’s face.
He missed.
She’d moved, almost too quickly for a human eye to follow, and now she stood less than an arm’s length away, gazing up at him, their position a perverted mockery of the way they’d stood at Joelle Milette’s party.
Whatever he did, whatever the outcome, Aurek knew it destroyed the chance that Pont-a-Museau represented for Natalia.
Louise reveled in the despair on the scholar’s face. Terror would have been good but, now that she saw it, despair was better. Hissing softly, she began to rise up onto her haunches.
With a screech of tortured timber, the center of the floor collapsed.
Rats fell, squealing, into the sewer. Those near enough to the edges of the hole surged forward, adding their weight to wood already stressed. The collapse spread.
Louise felt the floor beneath her hind feet begin to break away. She whipped her tail forward, found her balance, and lost it again when a giant rat, driven by panic, slammed its weight against her legs.
Shrieking in fury, she plunged, tangled in a mess of rats and splintered wood, into the fetid water below.
Manic rage insisted she deal first with the rat that had caused her to slip. By the time it had been rendered into an unrecognizable mass of blood and bone, everything that was likely to fall had fallen. Chunks of broken wood floated with less savory flotsam and, up above, jagged stumps jutted out mere inches from the walls.
Her anger barely abated by the slaughter of the giant rat, Louise searched for Aurek Nuikin. Had he
The narrow flight of stairs angled steeply down into the cellars. Aurek paused for a heartbeat to check his footing and found the top three treads no longer existed. Heart pounding, he leaped over the hole, felt the fourth splinter under his weight, slammed his shoulder into the damp stone wall, and somehow managed to keep his feet. The rats had gone through the walls and cut him off. He had no choice but to go down.
He hadn’t seen Louise Renier again, but he could feel the heat of her hate on his back.
Lantern flickering ominously, the oil nearly spent, he dashed along the heavy beams that were, in places, all that remained of thefloor. From the smell rising up through gaping holes outlined in bloated half-circles of fungus, the sewers were directly below.
The wall he soon arrived at was, unfortunately, much more solid than the floor.
Too late, he realized the stairs were the only way in or out, and the stairs had become a seething mass of rats. Cornered, Aurek turned to face them in time to see Louise Renier descend. Flanked by the giant rats she commanded, the wererat started across the room toward him.
If he fought and was destroyed, all was lost.
If he fought and won—and to win he must kill the lord of Richemulot’s twin—all was also lost.
Rats were still coming down the stairs, and now they’d begun to climb up from the sewers as well.
Aurek found himself wondering how Louise controlled her lesser cousins, if some sort of telepathy occurred between the wererats and the rest. He had to force his attention back to his own safety. Answers would have to wait. For now, the only question had to be survival.
There was nowhere else to run. The ceilings in these buildings were high, even deep in the cellars—too high for him to reach the room above. He pressed his shoulder hard against the damp and unyielding stone that held him trapped. If only he knew what was on the other side.… But he didn’t.
He would have to fight.
All other choices had been taken from him.
He turned to face the wererat, fascinated in spite of himself by the similarities between this animal and the woman who had tried to seduce him less than twenty-four hours before.
Rats continued to pour into the room.
The floor shuddered under their combined weight.
Squealing in fury, a rat dropped onto his shoulder from above. Without thinking, he plucked it off and flung it in the wererat’s face.
He missed.
She’d moved, almost too quickly for a human eye to follow, and now she stood less than an arm’s length away, gazing up at him, their position a perverted mockery of the way they’d stood at Joelle Milette’s party.
Whatever he did, whatever the outcome, Aurek knew it destroyed the chance that Pont-a-Museau represented for Natalia.
Louise reveled in the despair on the scholar’s face. Terror would have been good but, now that she saw it, despair was better. Hissing softly, she began to rise up onto her haunches.
With a screech of tortured timber, the center of the floor collapsed.
Rats fell, squealing, into the sewer. Those near enough to the edges of the hole surged forward, adding their weight to wood already stressed. The collapse spread.
Louise felt the floor beneath her hind feet begin to break away. She whipped her tail forward, found her balance, and lost it again when a giant rat, driven by panic, slammed its weight against her legs.
Shrieking in fury, she plunged, tangled in a mess of rats and splintered wood, into the fetid water below.
Manic rage insisted she deal first with the rat that had caused her to slip. By the time it had been rendered into an unrecognizable mass of blood and bone, everything that was likely to fall had fallen. Chunks of broken wood floated with less savory flotsam and, up above, jagged stumps jutted out mere inches from the walls.
Her anger barely abated by the slaughter of the giant rat, Louise searched for Aurek Nuikin. Had he
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